I Guess The Landslide Did Bring You Down
by Brittanaswanky
Summary: After Brittany, Santana and Holly performed Landslide, Quinn felt her suspicions were confirmed.


After Brittany, Santana and Holly performed Landslide, Quinn felt her suspicions were confirmed. But she didn't really had time to think about it, since Santana left the room a few moments after the song ended.

But the thing is that she left right after Rachel's comment about "exploring the sapphic charm". She left because of her comment.

To anyone else, it probably seemed like she simply wanted to look like a diva and storm out of the room, but Quinn wasn't anyone else. She knew Santana. Obviously she also knew Brittany and how close they were, but that was more obvious, anyone could guess that.

What wasn't obvious, was Santana's struggle. It was no secret for Quinn that Santana wasn't really being her true self. And clearly, her friend wasn't happy about it. That was probably the reason why she was so cruel to everyone.

Quinn had wanted to confront her about it a million times, but never really did it. Now at least she understood that Santana actually had a reason. Now she could approach it from another angle. Offer her comfort instead of accusing her.

It didn't assure Quinn that Santana would react well, though. Knowing her friend, she was probably going to jump in denial, completely freak out and yell at Quinn, especially after Rachel's comment.

Quinn looked around.

Rachel looked confused, she hadn't understood what she said wrong, as usual.

Brittany looked confused too, but in a different way. She looked hurt but happy at the same time. Probably happy about singing with Santana but sad (_or maybe disappointed?_) about Santana's reaction to the comment.

Everyone else looked uncomfortable, not knowing what to do, so they chose to do nothing at all.

Well, once again, Quinn wasn't everyone else, so she stood up, gave Brittany a tiny smile and went to look for Santana.

While she walked through the corridors of McKinley, she started thinking again.

She started thinking about how many people could possibly be in that school who were in the same situation as Santana. How many people were denying who they were. Hiding themselves. Hurting themselves.

It really worried her. It could be literally anyone. Who knows how long Santana had been like this? And no one else seemed to realize. For all that Quinn knew even Tina could be going through the same.

Quinn walked into one of the bathrooms. It wasn't the nearest to the choir room, so it wss possible that Santana got in there, since she probably thought that people would go to look after her in the nearest bathroom and not in one that was far away from them. The saddest part is that there was no people looking after her. No one seemed to care except for Quinn.

Quinn was right. Santana was in that bathroom. And when she turned around, Quinn could see that she had been crying, which hurt her.

"I think we should talk." Quinn said softly

"I don't think so." Santana replied looking away

"Santana." Quinn tried again

"Be careful with what you say."

Quinn was starting to get annoyed by her friend's attitude.

"Don't you think that you should tell me what is going on between you and Brittany?"

"Ugh, that elf ruined everything." Santana said frustrated

"Rachel didn't ruin anything, she was actually congratulating you. If you react like this, it's your problem, not hers."

"So you are taking _her_ side. That's great, thanks, Q."

"It's not about sides, Santana." Quinn replied "I get it. You're scared. But-"

"Save it, Juno. Nothing's going on and, before you ask, I'm fine." Santana said coldly "Now leave me alone."

"I happen to care about you and leaving you alone like this doesn't look like a good idea."

Quinn could see tears appearing in Santana's face again.

"Seriously. Leave. Me. Alone."

"Fine. But just know that it's obvious that you're hurting, but I can't help you if you don't let me."

And with that said, Quinn got out of the bathroom. If Santana wasn't helping, then Brittany would.


End file.
